


Bucky Barnes versus the Smithsonian

by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes



Series: The 'Bucky Barnes Versus' verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes/pseuds/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky lets Steve know what he thinks about the Captain America Exhibition. </p><p>(Set not long after the events of The Winter Soldier. Also features cameos by a few of the Howlies (flashback) and a cameo from the Smithsonian security guard)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky Barnes versus the Smithsonian

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been writing fanfic for a heck of a long time, but this is my first Captain America fic and my first post at AO3, so here’s hoping I do it correctly!

 

 

Smithsonian Captain America Exhibit

2.11am

 

Steve quietly entered the main section of the exhibit in his honor. Enough lights were on for security to navigate their way around if needed, which meant ample visibility for a super soldier.  The place was empty of the crowds who had been traipsing through Steve’s life, or what they thought was his life.

 

But that wasn’t why he was here.

 

At first look, it seemed that the Bucky Barnes memorial panel had been vandalized. There were black scribbles and cross outs all over the panel from a thick black Sharpie. But with a closer look, it wasn’t vandalism.

 

It was editing and commentary combined.

 

Whoever had written or created the panel had somehow managed to put Bucky’s date of birth as 1916 at the top and then 1917 down the bottom. Whoops.

 

The _1916_ had been crossed out with force, and **_1917!!!!_** put next to it.

 

There was a post-it note stuck to the forehead of the big image of Bucky on the panel, which declared: **Couldn’t they have found a better photo of me than THIS?**

 

That got a chuckle out of Steve.

 

Where the text of Bucky’s bio read _‘oldest of four children’_ , an arrow had been drawn to a spot near the edge of the panel, pointing to three names that had been scribbled in the border. Steve realized that Bucky was trying to recall the names of his sisters. He had scrawled ‘Karen’ then crossed it out and put _‘Claire’_.

 

_Becca_

_Claire_

_Laura_

 

In some places he had put ‘????’ next to things, or a tick. The part about being an excellent athlete  and scholar got a tick AND a smiley face. Bucky had always been proud of those things. He had not just been a handsome face.

 

The words _‘In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America’_ had set off the strongest reaction. _‘In an ironic twist of fate’_ had been circled, crowned with question marks galore and received the comment – **NO, HE CAME _LOOKING_ FOR ME.**

 

Steve’s emotions went running around like hyperactive children.

 

The agony of the serum changing his body – it had been worth it. Not just because it had cured his health, but because it had allowed him to rescue Bucky from that Hydra base.

 

If only he’d been a few seconds quicker to reach him on the train…

 

Steve pulled himself out of those thoughts.

 

The only sign of actual damage he could see was to the screen in front of the memorial wall, where Steve had watched black and white archive footage during his previous visit. One side of the frame had a dent in it – a hand print. It was like Bucky’s metal hand had been on the edge of the screen and gripped too tightly at some point, perhaps without being aware of it.

 

Hopefully not in a rage.

 

The Sharpie edits and commentary were limited to the memorial panel. Some of the other exhibits had post-it notes stuck to them. Steve would read them later – he’d only stopped for a quick look at the memorial, his artist’s eye and enhanced memory taking in all the details quickly. There was somewhere else nearby he was in a hurry to get to.

 

But first he had wanted to get an idea of what was going on in Bucky’s head.

 

Steve then went into one of the side rooms, the one where he had watched the film clip of Peggy. The hopefully ex Winter Soldier was in there now.

 

Bucky was not surprised to see him, because Bucky was the one who had called and asked him to come here.

 

He was sitting on one of those backless, plush seats that looked like it could hold five people. His face was pale but not murderous. His gloved hands were resting on his knees. The stubble Steve had last seen was now blooming into a beard. Bucky’s outfit of choice mirrored Steve’s own: jacket, jeans, baseball cap. Bucky was wearing several layers of shirts too.

 

And you could still drown in his gaze.

 

On outward impression, things looked promising. Despite this, Steve stood in the doorway, unsure whether to step inside or wait. Would Bucky think he was blocking an exit on him and panic? They looked at each other. Steve went to speak but Bucky got in first.

 

“So, cigarettes are actually deadly, women can ask men out, men and women can live together without marrying, men and men can marry each other, and what else have I missed?”

 

Before Steve could reply, Bucky plowed on, looking bemused. “Everyone has tattoos now, not just sailors. Women have more tattoos than men! Men wear earrings.  Fashion has shrunk. Phones are very portable. And the cost of movie tickets is a damn disgrace!”

 

Steve smiled. So did Bucky, he was heartened to see. They were connected by a lot of things, and now by their amazement of the odd things about this century. Then the smile stopped.

 

Bucky shifted on the seat. “My sisters…  Their names… Did I get them right?”

 

“Yeah, you did.”

 

A sigh. “For a while there, I couldn’t.”

 

“Buck, after what Hydra did to you, it’s a miracle you can remember anything at all.”

 

There was a pause. Steve asked, “Can I…?” and made a ‘come in’ gesture.

 

Bucky nodded and indicated that he could sit on the long seat too, but not right beside him. Still, that was better than Steve had been expecting.

 

He sat down. “Are you all right?”

 

That made Buck look annoyed. “They got my birth year wrong. That’s just bad manners.”

 

“Yeah, I meant to tell them to fix it. But when I noticed, I was kind of wrapped up in remembering about you, then a whole mission kicked in.”

 

“The helicarriers.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Steve was relieved that Bucky was more present and aware than he had braced himself to hope for. But he was still pale, and a haunted look was never far away from his eyes. He wanted to tuck Bucky up in a bed and feed him soup. Then stand guard between him and the world for the rest of their lives.

 

Bucky said, “There was a clip on that screen in the other room. You and I standing together, laughing. We look so happy.”

 

“We were. There was a war going on, but we still had each other.”

 

“’ _Totes besties_ ’, they’d say now.” Bucky pulled a face. “This century is _weird_. You have a new wingman though. Literally a wingman. I remember tossing him off that helicarrier. I looked him up online when I got my memories back – when I got my conscience back. I’m glad he’s okay.”

 

“Sam’s a great friend, but you’re my best friend.”

 

“And he was helping you to try to find me, even though I nearly killed him. You certainly do have weird friends.”

 

“Always have, always will.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes.

 

Steve took a deep breath. “Come home with me, please.”

 

There was a drawn out silence. Had he said too much, pushed too hard? Bucky pointed out, “I shot you. Not just once. I stabbed you. I tried to toss you off a helicarrier.”

 

“Because you’d been heavily brainwashed. Then you saved me despite that, and despite the fact you had a broken arm that I’d given you.”

 

Bucky looked like he was about to argue, then said, “You seem to be moving all right now – did you heal up okay?”

 

“Yeah. How about you?”

 

Bucky slid over closer. He wriggled and moved his flesh arm and fingers to show Steve that his arm was fine again.

 

“How well do you remember things now?” Steve asked.

 

“I remember a lot about you and me. From before the War and during. I know I did horrible things when I was brainwashed but I can’t remember much of that yet.” Bucky stared at the floor. He took a deep breath. His voice shook a little. “Glimpses. Mostly in nightmares. I think that’s all going to come crashing back into me, so I wanted to contact you before then. I remembered how important we were to each other. Are. I know that you’ll help me. And I know you’ll protect others from me if needed.”

 

Steve slid nearer on the seat. Bucky didn’t object.

 

Bucky continued, “What’s really keeping me going is that somehow, despite all we’ve gone through, it’s 70 years later and _we’re both still here_. That’s got to mean something. We’ll _make_ it mean something.” He moved closer and now they were sitting together, properly side by side. “We’ve got skills we can use to help people. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do in that regard. If the authorities let me, of course.”

 

Steve was so very relieved to hear Bucky’s determination to make a difference. “We’ll help people, Buck. But first we’ll take some time for ourselves. Get used to being back in the world. Bring you up to speed about things. And we never really got to travel much before the War. We can do that now.”

 

Bucky considered this and nodded. “I once told Peggy that I’d like to see England without all the sandbags and barrage balloons and with the statues back in place. It’d also be good not to do that through the eyes of a mission, while brainwashed.”

 

“Then let’s do that. England. Paris.”

 

“And the Grand Canyon.”

 

“Of course. We can do that first.”

 

“After I’ve acclimatized a bit. And the Avengers are sure that I’m not going to try killing you again.”

 

They sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t an awkward silence.

 

Reluctantly, Steve looked at his watch and said, “We’d better go and clean up out there. Then back to my place for some food and sleep.”

 

“Do we have to clean up the stupid exhibition? Keep my comments on there; people might actually learn something.”

 

Steve gave him a look. “At least the post-it notes will be easy to remove. What sort of Sharpie did you use? One that we can just rub off with some window cleaner or turpentine?”

 

Instead, Bucky commented, “If we don’t go soon, the night guard will do his next round and find us.”

 

When Bucky had phoned Steve, he’d told him that he’d taken care of the security system (non-violently). Steve now said, “It’s all taken care of. I’ve spoken to the guard. He knows we’re here.”

 

“Are you kidding me? You idiot!”

 

“He knows me. I told him that I wanted to see the exhibit without anyone around, apart from a friend who I wanted to show it to.”

 

That got an eye roll. “That guy’s an old dodderer.”

 

“Well, I nearly got him fired recently – I didn’t want that to happen again.”

 

They went out into the main section of the exhibit. Steve stopped in front of the giant mural with the dummies of the Howling Commandos fanned out in front of it. He grinned.

 

Bucky gave him a look. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Look at this display: you’re the only one not wearing headgear.”

 

“Well, there were times when I did wear hats – my sergeant’s cap – and I wore a helmet when I was with the 107th before we were captured. But perhaps the exhibition people didn’t want me to wear anything that would obscure my handsome face.”

 

Bucky clearly meant it as a joke. However there was a pause when they both realized or reflected on how Hydra had put him in the cloth muzzle and goggles.

 

Then Steve tried for some levity. “Or the organizers here realized that you preferred not to wear hats because you didn’t want anything messing up your hair.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Steve could remember how the Howlies had teased Bucky that his one true love was Brylcreem. During the war, Bucky had seemed to treat combing his hair like a self-soothing exercise that went beyond grooming into a calming rite that centered him.  Steve was glad for anything which helped his best friend after his POW experiences, so he didn’t josh about it. If the Howlies needled too much, Bucky would stop answering back and just go very quiet instead. When that happened, the teasing would instantly halt.

 

Steve could hear and see all of them now.

 

_Bucky said to them, “I like to keep my hair looking good. All because we’re in a war, doesn’t mean we can’t look smart.”_

_“Hear, hear,” Farnsworth said, the other one of their group who also obsessed over his coif._

_“If you keep on combing like that, you’ll end up with a bald spot,” Morita warned Bucky._

_Dugan asked, “Want a hairnet, sweetheart?”_

 

Steve came back to the present as Bucky stared up at the mural of Cap and the Howlies and mused, “At least they’ve got my hair right in the portrait. They may have got my date of birth wrong, but I’d have been more annoyed if they hadn’t shown me properly groomed. Heck, look at it, Steve! We’re 25 feet tall! It’s like we’re on a movie screen!”

 

“Yeah, I know.” It was a relief to see the amazement and delight on Bucky’s face.

 

The mural artist had put the two of them next to each other in the group portrait. As it should be.

 

“They still make Brylcreem, don’t they?” Bucky asked.

 

“I’ve got some for you back at my apartment. Plus a room of your own. And clothes.”

 

“You sure know how to provide for a guy.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I could do with a haircut. Not back to completely how it was, but tidied up some. You might have to do the cutting though. I don’t think I could handle some stranger coming near me with scissors, even if he is a barber.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Bucky looked back at the mural. “The guys. They were great. Pains in the ass at times, but great.” Bucky’s eyes traced the plaques beneath the mannequins, each with the name and rank of a Howlie and their birth and death dates. “All gone now. I’m not surprised that Peggy outlived everyone. I know she’s… I’m sorry about her condition…”

 

Steve nodded.

 

“And your mannequin isn’t here. Someone stole the costume. That was you, wasn’t it? That’s how you nearly got the guy fired.”

 

“And now I’d better find him and get some cleaning equipment to clean up your mess.”

 

But neither of them moved. They kept staring at the mural, at their friends and comrades.

 

Steve said, “It was very hard on them. Losing you, then me, within a few days of each other. But, as expected, they kept fighting on. And they’re legends now.”

 

They finally moved, going past another display, with Bucky pointing at items and musing, “Why did they put THAT in an exhibition?”

 

Then he asked, “Do you like this?” Bucky gestured around at the whole thing.

 

“It feels really weird.”

 

“It’s more Captain America than _you_.”

 

“You’re the one who could always see beyond that.”

 

Bucky gave an exasperated huff. “This exhibition needs more Peggy in it,” he said. “And more of your artwork. You still draw and paint, don’t you?”

 

“I’m getting back into it. What they need to do is to remove your date of death.”

 

Bucky made a non-committal sound. “What will they say about me now?”

 

“When they know what you went through –”

 

Bucky tensed. “Someone’s coming.”

 

“It’ll be the night guard.”

 

It was. Bucky stayed over the other side of the room while Steve talked to the man. The guard seemed to find the scribbles and post-it notes a lot less distressing than the loss of the Cap uniform (which Steve was getting replaced anyway). He didn’t notice the indentation on the playback screen (which Steve would ask Tony about fixing – at least the footage on the screen still played without a problem). The guard then brought Steve some cleaning equipment before leaving them alone. Steve and Bucky removed the commentaries, with Bucky grumbling and Steve gently teasing.

 

Though Steve did temporarily add his own commentary on the memorial panel.  Where it said _‘his will was strong’_ , Steve wrote: **Damn right it was**. **And still is**

 

Bucky gave him a glare but it was a bit spoiled by the blush spreading across his face.

 

Steve would take him home, take care of him, help him, and find out how much catching up he needed to do about the last seventy odd years.

 

There was something else to bring him up to speed on, when the time was right – how Steve felt about him. But then Bucky gave him a look, and Steve’s heart speeded up.

 

The laws had changed, finally, in that regard. And Bucky knew that. He had said: _men and men can marry now_.

 

Steve knew that declarations of love would not happen yet. But for now they had found each other again. They were together. They were, amongst so much else, each other’s safe harbor.

 

They moved forwards at the same time and hugged. Steve felt the years and the heartache slip away for now.

 

After a while, it was Bucky who pulled back first, but in a reluctant way, and only to say, “Let’s go home.”

 

xXx

 

Overheard by the night guard as Captain Rogers and his guest left together:

 

“Can you believe that gift shop, Steve? Our faces are on _fridge magnets_! Hey, look at that! Will you buy me one?”

 

(The guard did not hear or see just what was requested, but he did hear Captain Rogers give a big, delighted laugh in reply.)

 

xXx

 

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Faye for beta reading!
> 
> There is a sequel, called “Bucky Barnes versus Underwear”, which I will be posting in around a week’s time.
> 
> I’m on Tumblr as musings-on-bucky-barnes


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